The room fell silent. Another crack echoed through the chamber. Then another. Thin fractures spread across the golden shell, golden light seeping through the widening gaps.
Raymond immediately dropped to the floor and carefully placed the egg atop a pillow. Neither brother dared look away. Leon rolled onto his side despite the pounding headache threatening to split his skull apart. He wasn't missing this. Not after nearly dying to create the thing.
Another piece of shell fell away. A small metallic beak pushed through. Then nothing. The room remained silent. Raymond blinked. Leon blinked. The tiny beak remained motionless. Several seconds passed, then a full minute.
Raymond frowned. "Did it die?"
The beak twitched.
Leon groaned. "It's sleeping."
"What?"
"It's sleeping." The beak twitched again. "Apparently hatching was too much effort."
Raymond stared. "You're telling me the legendary sky predator is taking a nap?"
Leon rolled his eyes. "It's a baby."
"A disappointing baby."
As though offended by the comment, the beak immediately pecked the shell. Crack. Another section broke away, then another, the entire egg shaking. This time the struggle continued until the final piece of shell broke away and a small creature tumbled free.
For a moment it simply lay there amidst the shattered remains of the egg. Then it shook itself.
Clink. Clang. Clink.
The sound made both brothers freeze. It wasn't the soft rustling of feathers—it sounded like dozens of tiny knives striking one another. The hatchling stretched its wings, dark bronze feathers covering its entire body. Not sparse down, not wrinkled skin—actual feathers, each one gleaming faintly beneath the room's light. Metallic. Sharp. Beautiful. And completely unnatural.
The young eagle blinked several times before opening its golden eyes fully. Those eyes immediately landed on Raymond. The hatchling froze, then let out a delighted screech.
"Kreeee!"
Before either brother could react, it stumbled toward him on oversized talons, its movements clumsy, unsteady, almost comical—yet every step left shallow scratches across the wooden floor.
Raymond's eyes widened. "It's coming to me."
"Obviously," Leon muttered weakly from the bed. "It thinks you're its mother."
Raymond ignored him entirely. The hatchling reached him and immediately tried climbing onto his lap. Raymond quickly shifted backward, carefully avoiding those razor-sharp talons. The thing was adorable, but it was still walking around on weapons. He crouched instead and gently lowered a hand toward its head. The moment his fingers touched the feathers, Raymond winced.
"Damn." "They're hard." The feathers felt less like plumage and more like overlapping blades. Even with the toughness of a Gold Rank warrior, the sensation was distinctly uncomfortable.
The hatchling, however, absolutely loved it. Its eyes immediately closed in satisfaction.
"KREEEEEEEE!"
The screech exploded through the room. The windows rattled. A cup sitting on a nearby table vibrated. Leon buried his face into a pillow. "Dear lord. What kind of abomination have we created?" His head was already pounding—the hatchling's voice felt like someone hammering nails directly into his skull.
Raymond remained completely unaffected. If anything he seemed delighted, continuing to rub the bird's head as it pushed into the touch eagerly.
"KREEEE!"
"Yes, yes. You're magnificent."
"KREEEEE!"
"Absolutely magnificent."
Leon groaned. "I regret everything."
Raymond pulled the bird into a loose hug. The hatchling responded by enthusiastically rubbing its head against his chest. Then suddenly—nibble. The eagle gently bit his ear, not enough to injure, just enough to draw blood.
"Ah!" Raymond jerked slightly. The hatchling released him immediately.
For a brief moment nothing happened. Then golden light appeared. Tiny runes emerged from the blood droplet—one, then another, then dozens. Ancient symbols began floating around Raymond in slow circles. The room suddenly became silent. Even the hatchling stopped moving. The runes drifted through the air like living things. Waiting. Watching. Expecting.
Leon immediately sat upright despite the protest from every muscle in his body, his headache forgotten. "What happened?"
Raymond stared blankly. A thin trail of blood ran down his ear, yet he looked completely unharmed. Instead he seemed stunned. Then realization appeared on his face. "Oh." "Oh!" His eyes widened. "It's a blood pact." Get faster updates on novelping(.)com.
The hatchling chirped proudly, as though confirming it.
Leon blinked. "A blood pact?"
Raymond nodded rapidly. "It recognizes me as family." The hatchling immediately pressed itself against his side, clearly proving the point.
Leon frowned. The term sounded familiar. Very familiar. Then suddenly a memory surfaced—a passage from an old book he had read years ago. His expression slowly changed. Confusion. Then disbelief. Then shock.
"Wait." Raymond looked toward him. Leon stared at the floating runes, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Blood pacts..." He swallowed. "Aren't those supposed to belong to dragons?"
Raymond froze.
"And vampires," Leon continued. "Creatures with exceptionally powerful bloodlines."
The room became quiet. Very quiet. Leon slowly turned toward the hatchling. The little eagle was currently trying to chew on Raymond's sleeve, completely oblivious to the significance of what it had just done. Yet Leon could feel his heart accelerating. Because if his memory was correct, blood pacts weren't something ordinary creatures possessed. They were abilities associated with creatures whose bloodlines stood at the very top—creatures powerful enough to pass pieces of that power onto others.
Leon stared, then finally voiced the thought both of them were beginning to realize. "Do these creatures..." His eyes remained fixed on the hatchling. "...also possess that kind of bloodline power?"
Neither brother spoke. The baby eagle simply tilted its head, then let out a happy screech. "KREEEE!" The windows shook again.
And somehow that answer was even more terrifying.
Raymond's grin somehow widened even further. "Aren't you too awesome?" He immediately grabbed the baby eagle and began rubbing its head even more aggressively. The little eagle responded with a delighted screech.
SCREEEECH!
The windows rattled. Leon pulled the pillow over his head. His upcoming days were going to be miserable. Absolutely miserable.
"I accept this blood pact." Raymond spread his arms wide. The floating runes immediately reacted, as though receiving confirmation. Golden symbols surged forward and slammed directly into his body.
Raymond's confident expression vanished. The next moment his entire body locked up. The grin disappeared. His eyes widened. Every muscle tightened. Leon groaned—the instant the runes entered Raymond's body he could almost feel what was happening, as though someone had poured molten metal directly into his veins.
Raymond gritted his teeth. Hard. His pride as a Gold Rank warrior refused to allow something as insignificant as pain to make him scream. Unfortunately the pain did not care about his pride. His fingers dug into the floorboards and the wood cracked beneath his grip. Sweat poured down his face. His breathing became ragged. Any normal human would have fainted instantly—honestly that would have been preferable—but Raymond wasn't normal. Gold Rank warriors possessed absurd vitality. His body simply refused to lose consciousness, so instead he remained painfully awake, forced to endure every second.
Then the door exploded open.
BANG!
Arthur strode into the room, Cedric following directly behind him. Both men stopped. Silence fell. For several long seconds neither spoke.
Arthur's gaze moved slowly across the room. His exhausted younger son sprawled across a bed. A giant metallic eagle chick standing protectively in the middle of the room. His elder son kneeling on the floor while glowing runes swirled around him, blood dripping from one ear. Golden light everywhere. Feathers. Broken shell fragments. And what appeared to be claw marks carved into expensive flooring.
Arthur blinked once. Cedric adjusted his spectacles.
"What," Arthur asked carefully, "is happening here?"
Neither Raymond nor Leon answered. One was busy suffering. The other was questioning every life decision that had led him to this moment.
SCREEEECH!
The baby eagle suddenly spread its wings, the metallic feathers clattering together. The sound resembled dozens of knives striking one another. Clang. Clang. Clang. The creature immediately placed itself between Raymond and the newcomers, its tiny body puffing up, trying very hard to appear threatening despite barely being larger than a large dog.
Arthur stared. Cedric stared. The eagle stared back.
Then everyone's attention returned to Raymond. His transformation had become impossible to ignore. Golden light pulsed beneath his skin with every heartbeat, his entire body trembling. The muscles along his arms bulged unnaturally before tightening again, as though something inside was reforging them piece by piece. Veins of molten gold briefly appeared beneath his flesh before fading.
Then his skin began to change. A bronze hue slowly spread across it—not paint, not discoloration, but the flesh itself seeming to take on metallic characteristics. Light reflected differently from his body now, subtly yet unmistakably. It looked as though someone had mixed metal directly into his skin.
The floorboards beneath him groaned, cracks spreading outward from where his fingers dug into the wood. His nails lengthened, darkening, sharpening, each fingertip becoming more akin to a talon than a human nail, carving effortlessly through the floor as he struggled to endure the pain.
Raymond clenched his jaw so hard his teeth creaked. His shoulders broadened, already powerful muscles swelling further, his frame expanding—not grotesquely, not unnaturally, everything appeared perfectly proportioned, simply larger, stronger, more refined. Like a master craftsman taking an already impressive weapon and improving every aspect of it.
His breathing became heavier, each inhale sounding deeper than before, more powerful. His black hair whipped wildly despite the complete absence of wind, the strands rapidly lengthening past his shoulders, past his chest, eventually reaching his waist. At the same time the color shifted, the deep black slowly lightening into a dark bronze-brown that resembled the metallic feathers of the eagle.
Then came the eyes. That was the moment even Arthur's expression changed. Raymond's pupils contracted sharply, growing narrower, predatory, the shape resembling that of an eagle staring down at prey from the heavens. Golden flecks appeared within the iris, small at first, then spreading, until his gaze seemed to gleam whenever light touched it.
For a brief instant Leon could swear Raymond's eyes reflected the room with impossible clarity, as though he were seeing details nobody else could perceive. The sensation felt strangely familiar—Leon had experienced it himself countless times, that unnerving feeling that the world had suddenly become sharper, larger, more detailed than it had any right to be.
The pressure in the room intensified. Not magical pressure. Presence. The feeling of standing near a powerful predator.
The transformation continued. His height increased another inch, then another. The seams of his clothing began straining audibly, threads snapping one after another, his shirt stretching tightly across his chest and shoulders, barely surviving.
Raymond lowered his head, his entire body shaking, sweat pouring from him. Yet beneath the pain something else was emerging. Strength. Not the explosive growth of a warrior advancing ranks. Something stranger. Something older. As though traits buried within a powerful bloodline were awakening for the first time. This chapter was copied from NovelPing without permission.
Beside him the baby eagle stood proudly, watching, waiting, almost looking satisfied, as if it knew exactly what was happening.
Arthur's eyes narrowed. Cedric's mouth slowly opened.
"It's quite a complicated story." Leon offered a sheepish smile.
"I believe I can process it," Arthur replied. Very slowly. Very calmly. Which somehow felt more dangerous.
Leon immediately shook his head. "No."
Arthur blinked. "No?"
"No." Leon pointed toward Raymond. "Let's wait for him to finish first. Brother and I can explain together." His expression became completely serious. "There is absolutely no reason I should face your questions alone while the prime culprit escapes responsibility."
Even Cedric coughed to hide a laugh.
Arthur looked at Raymond. Then at the eagle. Then at Leon. Then back at Raymond. "...Blood pact?"
Cedric suddenly asked. Both Arthur and Leon looked toward him. The old advisor had gone unusually solemn.
Arthur frowned. "You recognize it?"
Cedric nodded slowly. "Only from old records." His gaze remained fixed upon Raymond. "If I am correct..." His voice lowered. "Then what we're witnessing is a Blood Pact."
Arthur's eyes sharpened, immediately understanding the implication.
"I think we should wait, my lord," Cedric spoke quietly. "If that's truly what happened..." He adjusted his spectacles. "...then the explanation will be difficult to believe."
Arthur nodded once. And everyone waited.
The transformation continued for several more minutes. Then finally the runes faded. The golden light vanished. The pressure disappeared. And Raymond collapsed onto his hands, taking deep greedy breaths.
The pain had finally ended. For several long seconds he remained there, simply breathing. Then he pushed himself upright, the floorboards groaning beneath the pressure.
Raymond frowned. Even that simple movement felt different. Stronger. Heavier. As though his body had been reforged from metal.
The moment he reached his feet, the eagle screeched excitedly, its wings flapping wildly, metallic feathers clattering together. Then it launched itself directly toward him.
Everyone reacted. Raymond tried to dodge, instinctively, but his body moved strangely—everything felt unfamiliar, faster, sharper, yet somehow less coordinated. The eagle landed directly on his shoulder.
Cedric inhaled sharply. Leon winced. Arthur raised an eyebrow.
The talons settled. There was a metallic scraping sound—clink, clink—the claws easily capable of carving stone, yet somehow causing no injury whatsoever. The eagle merely shifted into a comfortable position, then rubbed its face affectionately against Raymond's head, making soft happy noises.
Everyone stared. Then realization slowly dawned.
Raymond laughed. A loud hearty laugh, the kind that only appeared when he was genuinely happy. He rose to his feet, testing his body. Everything felt different. His vision felt strange, sharper, far sharper. He could see details across the room he had never noticed before. Every sound felt clearer, every movement easier to track. His clothes felt unbearably tight, and with one casual movement—
RIP.
The shirt split apart. Cedric nearly choked.
Raymond looked delighted. He flexed his arms, examined his hands, then pounded a fist into his palm. The impact sounded suspiciously metallic.
"What's with that face?" he asked Leon. "Look at these muscles." He flexed again. "Everything feels like metal." His grin widened. "And my eyes." He pointed at them. "Now we can both stare at distant objects together." He laughed, like a child receiving a new toy.
Leon pointed behind him. Raymond blinked. A terrible feeling appeared in his chest. Until now he had been distracted—first by agony, then by excitement, then by the eagle repeatedly screaming directly into his ear. But now he suddenly became aware of two presences standing behind him. Watching. Silently. Slowly. Very slowly, Raymond turned around.
And found Arthur and Cedric staring at him.
The room became very quiet. Raymond smiled weakly, raised a hand, and greeted them. "Good evening, Father."
Arthur stared at the shredded clothes. The transformed body. The giant eagle. The ruined flooring. The broken eggshell. The exhausted Leon. Then he closed his eyes.
"...I leave you two unsupervised for one hour."
Cedric finally lost the battle. A laugh escaped him. Leon groaned. Raymond looked offended. And the eagle screeched proudly, as if it had accomplished something remarkable.